


A Dragon's Loyalty

by szhismine



Series: McHanzo Trash [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU based on Van Helsing kinda sorta, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Dragon!Hanzo, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hunter!McCree, M/M, Mild Blood, Overwatch - Freeform, Overwatch AU, Pre-Relationship, might add more to this!, rating might change if so, set in the 1800s ish, very loosely lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 09:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12129165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szhismine/pseuds/szhismine
Summary: Overwatch. Overseen by the religious authorities of the world, whose sole purpose is to contain or eliminate the threat of supernatural and otherworldly beings. On its last legs, it sends out one of its most notorious agents to escort home a beautiful, and dangerous creature. If only it were that simple.





	A Dragon's Loyalty

Thank you to [@mysteryprof](https://tmblr.co/mGRoDoXOn3Y4fToXAtHUEOA) for inspiring me to write this! It’s not so much demon Hanzo as it is dragon!Hanzo and Van Helsing!McCree (because I desperately need Blizzard to give us this Halloween skin), so I guess this can be considered a Van Helsing AU <3 hope you enjoy!!

*

The steady sound of booted footfalls echoed down the stone hallway, recognizable even without the faint jingle of spurs. The creature hidden within the abandoned wine cellar shifted, lifting its great head to take in a deep whiff of the air around it. The smell of rotting wood and dust was now pierced by leather, gunpowder, and… blood.

Cramped as its hiding space was, any opportunity to shift into its natural form was taken where it could. Last of its kind, trapped in a foreign land, a prize sought after by human and monster alike, meant discretion was key to survival. The trip home was slow and treacherous, made only possible by concealing its identity. Slowly, its large form shuddered and shrank, rough blue scales transforming into smooth human skin. Claws became fingers as the mythical beast picked up the robe bundled up next to his gear and fastened its sash around his waist, a show of modesty for company’s sake, not his own. Long, straight hair fell past his shoulders, as inky black as his eyes. All that remained of his true form was its image seared down his left arm, disguised as a tattoo.

The dragon was Hanzo once again.

With a human hand he wrenched the door open, just as Jesse McCree stepped up to the threshold. “Whoh there,” the hunter exclaimed, though his voice lacked its usual energy.

“You are hurt,” Hanzo muttered distractedly, burying his face into Jesse’s coat and running his hands over his chest until he found the source of the blood smell. A puncture hole in the left shoulder, red stains concealed by the dark of the leather.

“Yeah. Was too busy tryin’ to keep the blood-sucker from bitin’ me to notice she had a knife,” Jesse answered, wincing as Hanzo pawed at him. “Hold on a minute now, lemme at least sit down ‘fore ya patch me up.”

“Hmph.” Hanzo reluctantly pulled away, letting Jesse enter the cellar. The man pulled off his duster and flopped onto the cold floor, grunting as the movement jarred his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clung to the wound, and Hanzo quickly pulled a small kit from his bag. “Allow me.” Jesse merely nodded, a grimace the only hint he was in pain. Hanzo cut away the shirt with a knife, peeling the soiled cloth away. “Did you kill her?”

“Almost. Threw my flask o’ holy water in her face, but then she stabbed me an’ bolted. I reckon she made it back to her den.”

A rumbling growl formed in Hanzo’s throat, its sound not entirely human. “I will-”

“No,” Jesse interrupted quickly. “I know what yer gunna say. Our goal is to get ya home, that’s it. I hurt her enough that she won’t be on our tail no more. Right now that’s good enough fer me.”

Hanzo fell into silence, a frown gracing his otherwise stoic features as he cleaned and bandaged the wound. Jesse drank from his flask, oddly patient as he was tended to. The fresh scar would be one of many, his arms and torso littered with them. They painted a story, of violence and adventure. It wasn’t the first time Hanzo had seen them, since he assigned himself to mending Jesse’s hurts. He would do what he could to thank the man for risking his life for him.

“Why?” The question had been on the dragon’s mind for weeks now, and his curiosity finally bubbled out of him. “Why do you risk so much for me? I am not a fool. I know your…  _organization_  merely pretends to care-”

“I’m not them.” A stern anger rang in Jesse’s voice. “They’re just a… a means to an end fer me. They assigned me to ya because they think this charity mission’ll make 'em look good.” He couldn’t hold back a snort at the thought. “Overwatch’s reputation is in tatters. Amari’s dead, Reyes over-extended himself, and Morrison can’t control him anymore. Just a matter o’ time till it all goes to hell. Keepin’ any rare creature from bein’ hunted to death is, frankly, almost a damn suicide mission. 'Specially in yer case, what with a literal king’s bounty on yer head.” Jesse was never anything but blunt, and it did no good to try to lie to a dragon anyhow. “This way they can kill two birds with one stone- get rid o’ one o’ their most “unpredictable” agents, an’ get points for  _tryin’_  to save a majestic creature such as yerself.”

“Then why did you agree to this mission?” Hanzo pressed, unfazed by the direness of their situation. It wasn’t news to him.

Sighing, Jesse reached into one of his many coat pockets, retrieving a cigar and a matchbook.  “For lots o’ reasons. Reasons I don’t usually speak about.”

“Just give me one reason, then.” The plea was audible, and Hanzo flushed and looked away. A voice from his past rang clear in his mind.  _Dragons never beg._

Jesse heard the tone too, and his head snapped up in surprise. His teeth clamped down on the end of his cigar as he struck a match. Hanzo thought he might not answer, but- “I was with the group that found ye, remember? The last dragon in existence. Didn’t even believe it till I saw ya with my own eyes.” The smell of tobacco and ash filled the space between them. Hanzo wrinkled his nose, but leaned in closer nonetheless.  “I remember goin’ into that dungeon, seein’ what they’d done to ya. Those massive chains, that muzzle.” He shook his head. “Reyes told me it took him hours to cut ya free.  An’ there ya were. All shiny an’ bright, giant fangs glintin’ in the light ya gave off. Then I looked into yer eyes, an’ I knew- I knew despite yer capture, there was still fight left in ya. I never seen anythin’ so sad before… an’ beautiful.”

“…Beautiful?” Hanzo repeated the word as if puzzled by its meaning.

“Yeah. Beautiful.” Jesse’s gaze flickered over Hanzo’s human form, before their eyes met. Something in Jesse’s stare made Hanzo feel like the human was seeing  _through_  him. He remembered that day, the day he was freed. He remembered those men, who awed at his presence and yet spoke of him as if he weren’t there. Then Jesse appeared, approaching the dragon with reverence. He had been the one bold enough to talk to him. To ask about him. The first human to show him kindness.

With a sharp inhale, Hanzo was the one to look away first. He cleared his throat before changing the subject. “So the odds are against us.”

“The chance o’ ya seein’ yer homeland again is damn near non-existent.” Despite his bleak words, the hunter smiled. “But, I make this vow to ya- I’ll try my hardest to get ya there.”  
  
“Very well.” Hanzo lifted his head, his voice becoming deep, sultry, inhuman as he spoke. The voice Jesse heard when they first spoke in that dungeon. “Then I make this vow to you. I will kill anything or anyone that dares hurt you again.”

A shiver ran down Jesse’s spine. A dragon’s wrath was the stuff of legend. It was said that their protectiveness was just as fierce. Being in this dragon’s good graces, Jesse suddenly felt more safe and more  _cherished_  than he ever had his entire life.

That knowledge was too much to process, and a sudden wave of weariness washed over him. “I, uh, might need a nap 'fore we move on,” he muttered as he slumped down against the wall.

“Of course.” Hanzo stood. “Do not worry for our safety, I will keep watch. Get some rest, Jesse McCree.”

“Ya too, Hanzo…” Jesse’s eyes closed, then blinked open again. “Hey, uh, is Hanzo yer real name? Like yer… dragon name? Or-”

“It is the only name you need to know for now.” A pleased smirk tugged at the corner of Hanzo’s mouth. “ _Rest._ ” There was a command to the word, and what felt like a fresh breeze ruffled through Jesse’s hair. Before he could even think to ask where it came from, he was deep asleep, his troubled expression melting into a peaceful one.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Posting on AO3 'cause the response on tumblr has been great <3 I'd definitely be interested in exploring this more, if enough people are interested in reading more. If so, let me know!! TY for reading!! :)


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